Rejects
by FriendLey
Summary: "While I don't have a list of approved women..." "Oh, my God. You have rejects?" "I do. Renee Brown, Maria DeLuca, Denise Chang, Vera Petrovic, Erin Blackshaw, Odette Norwood." Who are these six women that Elizabeth remembered well enough to include in her list of rejected Mrs. McCord candidates?


**Disclaimer: I do not own Madam Secretary** **or any of its characters and lines used in this story. What is written here is for entertainment purposes only. I do not make any profits from it.**

Having the Last Talk with Henry was not uncommon. Elizabeth worked for the CIA for twenty years. She was no stranger to the prospects of losing her life and never returning to her beautiful family. So, being the meticulous and prepared woman that she is, she planned for any contingency. Every woman that she came across went through an inspection in her head, catalogued, and filed under Potential Candidates for new Mrs. McCord. Henry, of course, was surprised she was _that_ prepared and that she even remembered all those women.

There was a reason she mentioned those six rejected names to him that night before she flew to Iran. Those women couldn't possibly be the new Mrs. McCord, wife to Dr. Henry McCord and stepmother to three beautiful children. New Mrs. McCord had to be just as good as Elizabeth or even better. There was no way Henry was marrying down.

First in the list was Dr. Renee Brown, a woman Elizabeth had no problems with in the beginning. She is an unmarried Philosophy of Religion professor who joined the faculty after three years of courtship by the Philosophy department of University of Virginia. She's a well known philosopher in her field and has published 3 books, all of which Henry owns and recommended that Elizabeth read. Elizabeth, still working at the CIA at the time, had not met her and only ever heard Henry's stories of Brown.

There was his introduction of Brown after he sat-in in one of her classes. "Her field focuses on the reason of religion and not the religion of reason. So, you can see that there's a distinction but not a divide between our disciplines."

There was his review on her exposition of hope. "You'll love her book, babe," he said gesturing to it. "She offers a middle ground between Marcel's hope and Kant's hope."

And his praise of her character. "Sometimes, Renee asks me for some theological viewpoint which just proves to me that she isn't proud like some scholars, you know."

It's clear to Elizabeth that he respects Brown as a colleague. Basing it all on his anecdotes and the quality of her books (because Elizabeth read them all), Renee Brown was an ideal Mrs. McCord candidate.

But her opinion of her changed when they met years later. Elizabeth had just resigned from the CIA and finalized her teaching position with UVA when Henry decided to bring her to Brown's office to introduce them to each other.

The minute Henry and Elizabeth entered the room, Brown looked up from the pile of papers on her desk and said, "Please tell me you've left that CIA wife of yours and would like to run off with me." Elizabeth turned to her husband, her eyebrows raised, and sent him an amused look that said _she likes you! You never told me she likes you!_ He returned it with a look of his own. _Don't start._

"Unfortunately for you, I still am. And I brought her here to meet you," he told Brown, putting a hand on the small of his wife's back. He then proceeded to introduce the two women. Then, a ring erupted causing him to excuse himself and leave the room to take the call. When he did that, Brown turned to Elizabeth and the minute she began to speak, Elizabeth's opinion of her went from "I see a friendship" to "Bitch!"

Moments later, Henry returned and in his excitement to see the two get along, failed to see through the fake smiles plastered on their faces. They said their goodbyes and left to pick up Alison and Jason from school.

With his eyes on the rode as he drove them to their kids, Henry asked, "So, what do you think of her?"

Elizabeth wanted so badly to make her husband happy and say that Brown was a wonderful person but they weren't a couple that lied to each other. And she decided that since she didn't have anything nice to say about the philosopher, she wouldn't say anything at all. So, she frowned at him.

"You don't like her," he gathered from her look.

"She's judgy," she finally admitted.

His eyebrows furrowed. "She's not judg—"

"You weren't there," she interrupted, "She looked down on me for working for the CIA citing ethical reasons and all that. Which I totally agreed with, by the way, but she still holds it against me. Apparently, I was blind to the institution's faults for 20 years and then she started a debate about how religion is political and I swear, I think she was trying to see if I actually earned my doctorate in Political Science or maybe she wanted to see if I was a good enough wife for you. Or—"

"Babe," he cut in, laughing and risking a quick look at his wife. "That's how she is! She comes off strong and opinionated. She's just trying to see the tools that we've used to build ourselves with so she can find a right way to strike a relationship. Once you get through that, she's a great person."

"Well, there's something seriously wrong with her approach to making friends."

He smiled. He reached for her hand with his free one. "Give her a chance." And she did. Maybe Renee Brown was just taught to socialize a little differently. One shouldn't rely on first impressions, anyway.

Elizabeth's job eventually started and she saw Renee Brown more frequently. The latter somehow always had impeccable timing when interrupting Elizabeth and Henry's lunch dates in the school grounds. By the third interruption, Elizabeth had a nagging feeling that Brown did not just happen to be "going on her usual noon walks" and happened to spot them. Call her crazy but she was 54% sure Brown wanted her husband and hated her guts.

Henry may not be bothered with Brown's subtle flirtations, but Elizabeth definitely was. "Do you notice she nudges you a lot?" to which Henry replied with, "She nudges just the right amount."

He may not view Brown's actions as machinations but Elizabeth definitely did. "She sent over ice cream in my favorite flavor. She's up to something, Henry. The CIA analyst in me is suspicious," she said as she stared at the unopened gallon that rested on the kitchen island.

He put both hands on her shoulders. "I mentioned that you like ice cream once and that it's been a particularly hard week for you. She's being nice. It's ice cream, babe, not a suspect you're interrogating." He kissed her on the cheek and left her to narrow her eyes some more at the ice cream.

Henry knows she doesn't like Renee just like Elizabeth knows he can't stand having Earl fix their household appliances. Their reasons for disliking the said people were entirely irrational and they accepted that.

So, of course Elizabeth wouldn't put Renee Brown down in her list of approved women (not that she had a set list) because to do so would acknowledge that there wasn't anything wrong with the scholar when twenty years of working for the CIA told her otherwise.

When Henry asked her, "What is wrong with Renee Brown?" all she could do was give him an incredulous look that said _Seriously?_ Because beyond that, she did not have a rational argument to give.

"O-Okay. You're saving the world. No Renee Brown."

 _You are so much nicer than me, she_ thought.

Then, there's Maria DeLuca who is an avid golfer and one of the active mommies in Jason's kindergarten bake sale. Over the years that they've worked with each other over cupcakes, she never stopped offering to teach Elizabeth how to bake or inviting the McCords to a game of mini golf. One day, Henry had enthusiastically accepted because he always wanted to try out golf and he happened to have a free weekend.

DeLuca, unlike Brown, was divorced, had two kids, and was more obvious in her affections for Henry. Elizabeth suspects her husband is the reason DeLuca always wants to come over to the McCord residence and teach her how to bake. Even the McCord children had noticed and were disturbed enough to pull their father away on the mini golf course.

Elizabeth, who never excelled at the sport, tried to cancel the night before. "You don't even play mini golf."

"But I want to," Henry replied, balancing small stacks of used dinner plates on each hand as he made his way to the kitchen. "And this is our chance. Maria's going to personally teach us how to do it. What are the chances of having an actual golfer teach us the sport?"

Jason bounced up and down by Elizabeth's side, pulling at the hem of her shirt while he did so. "I want to play mini golf, mommy!"

"Me too!" Stevie added, helping Alison clear the rest of the dinner table.

And so Elizabeth was outvoted.

On the day of the outing, Maria DeLuca turned out to be a _very_ hands on teacher.

"Oh, cutie. You're putting too much weight on the swing," she told Henry who was putting his all on the golf club. Alison and Stevie were right behind them, eyes following every move, trying to see what they could learn.

"Your hips shouldn't be that close to the club," DeLuca pointed out, placing her hands on Henry's hips and tugging it farther from where it originally was. "That's better." She gave his butt a slap as she stepped away.

His eyes widened and so did Stevie's and Alison's.

"Maria slapped Daddy's butt!" Alison rapidly whispered to her sister, "But mommy always said it's bad to slap other people!"

Stevie cringed. She was old enough to understand what _that_ slap meant. "I think Maria just likes slapping butts."

"I don't want her to slap _my_ butt!" Alison said fearfully, covering her butt with both hands.

"Don't worry. Mom's not going to let that happen." They both looked up to see their mom and their little brother returning from buying an ice cone. When they got nearer, Stevie insisted that their dad take a break and let their mom give it a try. Henry smiled gratefully at his eldest daughter. He was getting uncomfortable with DeLuca's method of teaching and so was Alison.

"I'll walk you through it," DeLuca said to Elizabeth, standing three feet away to show the proper form. Stevie noticed the lack of personal touching in _this_ session.

Elizabeth hesitantly picked up a club and tried to mirror her.

"Follow my form, honey," DeLuca said again, fake swinging at an imaginary golf ball.

"I am…" Elizabeth swung but it just wasn't as fluid as the teacher's. Her arms were stiff and her hands tightly clutched the club. She drew her back straight. "You know what, Maria, you should be with your family. We already feel bad enough holding you up here and keeping you from playing your game."

"Oh, nonsense! You and Henry need me. That husband of yours cannot get his hips to obey my instructions and neither can your arms for that matter. Now, just relax those when you swing the club."

Elizabeth did as she was told. "Like this?"

"No, no. See this, honey?"

She swung again in frustration and managed to throw the club at a lady a hole across from them. She hadn't seen it coming, the poor woman. The only reason the lady hadn't sued her was because the characteristically charming Henry stepped in and apologized profusely. That was the last time Elizabeth went miniature golfing and when the girls told her what had happened with Henry's butt, it became the first and last time they ever accepted an invitation from Maria DeLuca. Her husband and children obviously did not like Maria DeLuca and that was enough reason to be on the rejects list.

The third woman that was on it was Denise Chang, Henry's handler the first time he worked for the NSA. Elizabeth had been briefed about her husband's assignment which entailed being seen around town with a cute young woman. She had no problem with him working with women, beautiful or not, and she genuinely liked his handler who understood the bureaucracy that existed within intelligence agencies. Henry liked her too, as a friend, that is.

Denise was a woman who knew what she wanted. She went straight to the point, never dallied or beat around the bush. Elizabeth knew the type; there were many of them in the CIA. It was rare, however, to find someone with a moral compass which is what Denise has. Despite that, she was still out of the running for the position of new Mrs. McCord because of the nature of her job. Did the kids really need another parent with a high risk job? Did they really need to continue going through the stress of living in a false reality, to borrow Jason's words? This was how serious Elizabeth McCord took vetting potential new Mrs. McCords. She wanted normalcy for her children and for Henry too. Denise Chang wasn't it.

Vera Petrovic, on the other hand, was different; she had an air of mystery surrounding her and her husband. The Petrovics were one of the McCords' neighbors in their previous address and the latter found the woman of the house to be of very few words. Whenever she _did_ say something, it would always be out of the blue. Elizabeth chalked it up to her being an introvert or social anxiety. So, during house parties she would always include Vera in conversations or start one with her herself.

Vera's husband, Tim, was more social. He, Henry, and the other guys would be the noisiest bunch. They would sit by the coffee table, eyes glued to the TV, and root for their favorite sports teams.

Vera had neither been in the list of approved or rejected women but found herself in the latter anyway because of an offer she had made to Elizabeth one night during a neighbor's dinner party.

Elizabeth was standing outside on the porch getting some air when she heard the front door open. She turned to see Vera. She gave the woman a smile and returned her gaze to the street.

"So, Henry's Catholic?" Vera suddenly asked.

Elizabeth started. She hadn't expected the woman to begin a conversation with her and Henry's religion was the most random conversation starter _ever._ Nevertheless, she nodded. "Yes. But he hasn't practiced it in a long time, only usually when a priest is around." She half-joked.

Vera glanced shyly at her, her bangs partly shielding her eyes, making her look more mysterious than ever. "He isn't a conservative Catholic, is he?"

Elizabeth hesitated to answer. She looked back at the closed front door willing it to swing open and reveal the man in question. When it didn't, she shook her head. "No. Henry's anything but a traditional or conservative Catholic. I mean, if you were to—"

Vera put a hand on Elizabeth's right arm, stopping her from continuing. "I asked because I wondered if he wouldn't mind sharing you with me."

Elizabeth was confused. "Share? Why would…" she trailed off as Vera took the glass of wine that Elizabeth held in her left hand away. She placed it on a table nearby and put her other hand on Elizabeth's left arm. "Or if he wants, he could join us. Tim too. We're pretty open."

Elizabeth's mouth was slightly agape. When she realized that, she pursed her lips. Was this woman flirting with her? Is it even called flirting when one basically skipped over the pick-up lines and went straight to propositioning a foursome?

"I mean, I assume that's what you want too because _your_ efforts haven't gone unnoticed," Vera continued, her fingers on Elizabeth's arm making slow playful dances.

" _My_ efforts?" Elizabeth managed to ask. Those fingers were really distracting.

"Yes! You always talk to me when the other ladies keep their distance. Don't think I haven't realized that you like me, Bess!"

She was about to correct her when both their husbands went out the front door and found their wives awfully close. Elizabeth took a step away and reached out to her glass of wine, managing a sip.

"Hi, honey. Did you ask her?" Tim said excitedly, motioning to Elizabeth.

"Ask her what?" asked Henry, sliding his hands in his pockets.

Vera nodded to her husband. "Elizabeth? Why don't you tell him what I told you?" She directed a sultry gaze at Henry. "And you two can find us inside when you make up your mind." Then she approached Elizabeth, leaned in and softly kissed her.

Henry, who had not expected that at all, stood rooted on the spot, transfixed and surprised at the interaction. So was his wife it seems because when Vera pulled away and kissed him next, Elizabeth could only gawk. Both of them then stood dumbfounded as the Petrovics went back inside to the party.

"Did she just come on to the both of us?" asked Henry, unsure of what had happened. He took his wife's glass of wine and drank from it.

"Yeah." She accepted the glass when he offered it back to her. Bringing it to her lips, she mumbled, "And Tim just watched."

"I did not peg her and Tim to be… um… so adventurous."

They continued to stand there, sharing what little wine was left in her glass and occasionally laughing at what had happened.

"Oh! What was it that she wanted you to tell me?"

She looked up at her husband. She took a breath and began to convey Vera's message.

Henry and Elizabeth had nothing against the Petrovics or whatever kinky things they subscribed to. Whatever helps you and your marriage, they always say. Although, they draw a line when being invited to said kinky activities. What would their children think too if new Mrs. McCord suddenly invited another couple over to the master bedroom? Not that Vera Petrovic would leave her husband for Henry. Technically, she wasn't even a viable candidate for Mrs. McCord seeing as Tim's in the picture. But since she and her husband _are_ open and adventurous (Henry's words, not Elizabeth's) it's better to be certain and just cross her off the list altogether.

Henry couldn't agree more.

There's also Erin Blackshaw who Elizabeth has never liked since college. She was her roommate, the roommate she was only happy to leave behind when Henry asked her to move in with him.

She remembers studying in the library with Henry. They were still undergrads and thus weren't married then. She had seen Blackshaw walking to the library causing her to suddenly pull Henry to his feet and drag him behind the nearest bookcase to hide.

He gave her an impish grin, thinking she wanted to make out. "Really? You want to do it here?" He looked behind him and read the spine of one of the books, "Against _Psychological Dimensions of Organizational Behavior_? Well, I don't think the author would mind at all."

She rolled her eyes. "Not funny." She peered over the books. "It's Erin Blackshaw."

He knew Erin Blackshaw. He met her once when he helped Elizabeth move out. He shifted some books around and peered with her, trying to spot Erin's red hair. "She's not that bad, you know."

Elizabeth scoffed as softly as she could. "Of course you like her! Don't think I don't see her making eyes at you. And you totally encourage it with your unavailable ROTC arms lifting my boxes." She continued to whisper ignoring Henry's laughter and shaking shoulders from her peripheral vision. "She always has something to say. _Always._ Even if I don't ask for her input. If she sees us, she will never stop talking and we will never finish studying. Do you want that kind of woman around our kids? Do you want our children to become people who have nothing of substance to say but keep talking nonetheless?"

He stopped laughing and looked at the woman who was just his girlfriend at the time. She was turning red and refusing to look at him, embarrassed for having revealed one of her secret daydreams. "I didn't know we have kids. How many are we talking about here?"

"We—I—I meant—you know, in the future—I—" she stammered.

He smiled, planting a kiss on her temple and murmuring against her ear, "I was thinking five."

She quickly whipped around to face him. "FIVE?!"

Several people nearby looked up at the noise. There was a _sssshhhh_! to their right.

"Five?!" she repeated, hissing at him.

He nodded as if it was the simplest of all things.

"I know you grew up in a big family and I want that too, believe me, but I am not pushing five children out of my vagina!"

He tried to hide a smirk. "You won't be doing it all at once! They're not going to be quintuplets, babe."

"No. Three is fine."

And they did have three kids who Elizabeth maintains do not need Erin Blackshaw as a stepmother.

Finally, there was Odette Norwood who was definitely not an option. It wasn't because Elizabeth hated her; it was because she was unpredictable and, in Elizabeth's honest opinion, an irresponsible parent.

The McCords knew of Norwood from the local daycare center in Virginia. They would have play dates arranged for the kids in either one of the mommies' houses or theirs. There was one occasion where Norwood hosted a playdate and invited the parents to come too. So, Henry and Elizabeth gladly went bringing all three kids along. They weren't too old for a kiddie get-together anyway.

While the children were playing in Norwood's living room, the parents were all gathered in the dining room. A bottle of wine was open amidst the food laid out and kiddie stories were being swapped.

Nancy, one of the parents, was sharing a story. "Last Monday, Janey came up to Tom and said 'Daddy, I want one of those things in between Mark and John's legs."

Laughs erupted all around.

"What did Tom say?" asked Elizabeth, who had had just entered the kitchen in time to hear the story. She came from checking on the kids, a plate of half-eaten chocolate ice cream cake in one hand and a glass of water on the other.

"He didn't know what to say! He told Janey that it was only for boys but Janey wouldn't have any of it. So, he just told her 'You can be whatever you want to be.' And apparently it was the right thing to say because she just hugged him and scampered off."

Elizabeth settled the plate on the table where her husband sat. He took her hand and pulled her down to his lap.

"Jason begged for a bite of that, didn't he?" he whispered in her ear. He meant the cake.

She nodded. She gave her son one forkful knowing that two would probably make him hyper.

Henry turned to Nancy. "Janey should come over and play with Alison and Stevie. And Jason could play with Mark and John. It'd be the perfect playdate since Janey doesn't have any sisters, and Jason no brothers."

"That's a good idea!"

Norwood opened another bottle of wine and offered it to her guests.

"Oh, I'm good, Odette," Sheila, one of the mothers, said. "One glass is enough to make me woozy."

"I'm already feeling a bit weird," nodded another.

Norwood grinned. "That's because I put a little something in the dessert."

Elizabeth choked on the cake she was intent on finishing. "What do you mean?"

Norwood just giggled.

"Odette!"

"You drugged the food?"

"What were you thinking? The kids can't be eating that!"

"Relax! I just put some on _ours._ What do you think of me?"

Elizabeth turned to Henry, eyes wide. "I had two plates of this! Jason had a bite!"

Norwood threw her head back and laughed some more. "Jason will be fine. One bite won't hurt him. It was to loosen you all up. Bess especially. I know you're stressed with all that CIA work. You and Henry would be seeing a whole new world tonight thanks to my dessert."

Henry shifted nervously. He had a plate himself. How was he going to drive them home? Or cook dinner? Or put the kids, especially Jason, to bed? "How long does this last?"

"Oh, about four hours."

"FOUR HOURS?"

"Odette!"

It was divine providence that Henry managed to get them home safely and that Jason didn't seem to be affected by it. He was knocked out the entire ride back. Elizabeth, who had more of the cake than Henry, mistook Alison's pigtails for horns and demanded her husband call a local priest immediately.

"Honey, those aren't horns!" He tried to think back as to what Alison's hair was earlier that day but couldn't see past the bunny ears his addled brain told him he was seeing.

"Do the exorcism yourself then!"

"Mom, dad! It's just hair!" Stevie cried, ushering Alison up the stairs to her room before her parents could scar the girl for life.

Odette remained a friend. They would still meet up whenever the McCords went back to Virginia but suffice it to say that Elizabeth did not need to make her case to Henry about Odette Norwood being new Mrs. McCord and he never accepted food from her again—not even lasagna.

* * *

 **A/N: The bit about Janey was taken from Chris Hemsworth's story about his daughter. And I have no idea how long drugs last. I also apologize if anyone was somehow offended by what I wrote. I only intended to entertain. I do hope you enjoyed the fic.**


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